


The Beautiful & The Damned

by quitethesardonic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Romance, Teen Angst, tomione - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2019-01-23
Packaged: 2019-09-16 04:29:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 7,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16947027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quitethesardonic/pseuds/quitethesardonic
Summary: The heart is a capricious thing -- so susceptible to charm and cleverness, refusing to listen to the head which would have told the heart how foolish it was acting. As humans, we love and we hate, we hope and we despair, but most importantly of all, we desire so strongly for the beautiful things in life that we don't realize it will damn us in the end.A collection of drabbles and one-shots posted on my Tumblr. Mainly Tomione, some Dramione. Mainly angsty, sometimes fluffy, generally dramatic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: M for sexual references

There are many different ways to worship. A religious person can be found in a church, worshipping to a god who they believe will save them from their sins. A peasant can be found worshipping their kings or queens, hoping that one day, maybe, just maybe, they’ll be royalty as well. 

And then, there are the lovers. A lover can worship their partner’s body, showing them in more ways than one how much they appreciate them and, maybe, if they’re lucky, love them. Worshipping your lover is no different from worshipping a deity or a royal — they become your goddess as you feast on the honey that drips from the hollows of their body, hoping that it will sweeten your wickedness. They become your queen as they grace you with their unholy moans and sultry smiles as you beg to become their king — an equal.

Tom Riddle was no stranger to worship. He was used to being worshipped. The moment his voice lowered to a smooth baritone and he began to stand at 6’ 5”, all of the witches, older and younger, began flocking to him as if he were a king. They sighed at his dark, dreamy eyes, hoping to peer into them and finding more about this mystery of a man. They longed to run their fingers through his thick, wavy brown hair. With his pale skin, high cheekbones, and hollowed cheeks, he could have passed for the Lord of the Underworld in another lifetime. He was darkness and beauty mixed into one dangerous combination, but they wanted to worship him. Yes, they wanted to worship him so badly. He could be their Hades and they would be his Persephone. 

But the witches weren’t the only ones worshipping him. The wizards worshipped him as well. Tom Riddle became the epitome of what it meant to be an aristocratic wizard. He was intelligent, dignified, charismatic, but most importantly, powerful. Despite wanting so badly to hate the wizard (what’s his lineage?), most found that it was impossible. Those who tried to judge him on a bloodline he couldn’t control found themselves at the end of his wand and his eyes that looked like smudged charcoal would flash dangerously. Those who were looking closely would find that it would flash red with his temper. The wizards were positively terrified of him, but they worshipped him and became his Knights of Walpurgis in hopes of becoming something akin to their Lord — not his queen, of course, but the enforcers of his will and with it, glory. 

Tom has never had the inclination to worship anything in his life. He could be obsessive, yes, but worshipful? No. No deity could exist and allow a wizard of his magnitude to live in such conditions. 

No, Tom truly had never wanted to worship anyone until the first day of his seventh year when Headmaster Dippet introduced the students to the new Arithmancy professor, Hermione Granger, and he felt her magic against his skin and he wanted to moan out loud at how pleasurable it felt. It felt positively sinful. 

The witch was young for a professor, but he felt her power and he wanted her as his in every possible meaning of the word. He reached out with his magic and tentatively caressed hers. Her eyes found his across the Great Hall and he deigned the witch with a smirk. She gave him a tight smile in return before resuming conversation with the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

He would have to have her as his. 

He would worship her without hesitation.


	2. Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger   
> Rating: T

“You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re a liar.”

“Why do you think I’m lying, Hermione?” He asked her softly, the back of his hand trailing lightly down her cheek.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the warmth of him as he cupped her cheek.

“When have you ever told the truth? You’re manipulative and you’re a liar.”

His hand tensed at where it was placed and she opened her eyes to stare at him. Tom didn’t seem to realize it, but his biggest tell was when he had this mask of calmness over his face. It was how she always knew if he was upset.

“You’re the only one,” he remarked in exasperation and she recalled the conversation that led to this obsession he had with her.

“Only fools would fall for you, Riddle. And I’m not foolish enough to ever believe you could be trusted with my heart.”

Tom tilted his head and took a step forward, his chest pressed suddenly against hers as his fingers gripped her waist gently.

To a stranger, they would look like to lovers about to have an intimate rendezvous.

His lips touched the shell of her ear and Hermione fought the shiver that began to form. “We’ll see about that, Hermione.”

Hermione shook her head but didn’t make a move to leave. “Don’t fool yourself either, Tom.”


	3. Not Your Therapist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: T

“I’m not someone to fix you. I’m not responsible for how fucked you are. Women,” she emphasized, ”are not therapists for broken men!”

“I don’t want you to fix me!” He spat throwing his hands in the air and turning his back towards her. “I want you to love me the way I love you!” 

He froze suddenly, as if he made a mistake, and slowly turned around. His grey eyes were wide and Hermione tried to recall if she ever saw Tom Riddle so frazzled. 

“What?” She asked, her mouth gaped in surprise. 

Tom refused to move or say anything. 

“What did you say to me, Tom?”

At the sound of his name, the wizard straightened and sneered at her. 

“Are you deaf, witch?” 

“You don’t love me,” she stated firmly. 

“Oh, so now you think you can tell me how I feel?”

“I don’t know if you realized this about yourself, Riddle, but you are a sociopath.” 

He crowded her space suddenly and despite the violence that flashed his eyes, Hermione kept her head held high. 

She watched as his jaw ticked and she knew that Tom would be stubborn and adamant about his declaration. 

“I love you, you insufferable witch, and I have no idea why I do. You can choose whether or not to believe me but know this, Hermione. You have been and only ever will be the one person who is safe from me.” 

Hermione felt her resolve towards him crumble as she reflected on his words. However twisted this thing between them was, he spoke the truth at that moment. 

“What if that’s not enough for me? What if I want you to be a good man?” 

He closed his eyes and his brows furrowed. She clenched her fists in response, resisting the urge to smooth those grooves. 

“I can’t do that, Hermione.” 

She didn’t know when he leaned in so close or when he pressed his body against hers, but it made it so much more difficult to hate him when he sounded so desperate and his body was hard and warm against her own. 

“Why?” She asked. 

He shook his head and buried his face into her hair, holding her close.   
Hermione knew she should resist, should push him away. She should force an answer out of him. He was a murderer, the enemy, the person who made her best friend’s life hell. 

But she loved him, too.

And if this was what damnation was, then she didn’t mind.


	4. All or Nothing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: M for sexual references

“You,” he spat, “are mine." 

His eyes flashed dangerously and she took a step towards him. 

"And you,” she poked his chest for emphasis, “are mine. So don’t even think for a second that you can make sex eyes with that Walburga girl and get away with it. I tire of your games, Tom. If I’m yours, prove it. Show it. I’m not a pawn on your chess board. I am your equal or we are nothing. If not, I’m sure the Blacks would love to have you as their newest addition.” 

“Toujours pur,” she snarled. 

“And do you think the Blacks would like you as a new addition with all that clinging you do to Alphard?” He countered. 

“Jealous, are we? He and I are just friends if you recall. Nothing more. Unlike you, I don’t need to spell out all of my emotions with him.” 

They were so close to each other that she could feel the heat radiating off of him. He leaned in close and his breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. "I do recall when we were just friends, my lady, and I recall wanting to fuck you hard each time we met and I have no doubt in my mind that he has the same thoughts as I do.”

Her breath stuttered for a split second as she registered his words. He pulled away from her and smirked wickedly. She visibly swallowed before her face transformed into that of a cat’s who just swallowed the canary. She returned his smirk with just as much wickedness

“Well, Tom,” she started sweetly, “it seems that I might just capitalize on that opportunity and see if Black will be willing to, as you put it, fuck me hard if you and I don’t work out.”

She smiled innocently at him before bidding him farewell, leaving him flustered. His hands came up and pulled at the tie that seemed too tight all of sudden before running through his hair. 

“You’ll be the death of me, Hermione,” he murmured softly with affection bleeding into his tone.


	5. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: T

Tom couldn’t sleep and he spent the night tossing and turning in between his sheets. He rolled over and his breath caught as he found her staring at him, smiling sadly at him, her head laid on the pillow. 

He blinked rapidly, making sure that this wasn’t just a trick or an illusion, before reaching out for her. His fingers fell through and her form wavered slightly.

His breath caught in throat and he forced away his tears, lips trembling as he simply soaked in the sight of her, young and radiant, looking every bit like the queen she was supposed to be. 

“What,” he spluttered in confusion. “How is this possible?” 

She gave him a small shrug and Tom could feel his heart break all over again. 

“I don’t know,” she responded quietly, raising her hand to caress his face like she always did whenever she was worried about him. He closed his eyes, imagining her soft and cool hands trailing down his cheek. 

He wished desperately, his heart beating erratically and wildly, to have her by his side, to pull her against his chest and to wrap his arms around her smaller frame. 

“I’m losing it, aren’t I?” 

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of her laugh, low and smooth, and he watched her face light up in amusement. 

He had thought that losing her was painful. 

But that was nothing compared to this, wanting to lavish her with his love and affection, but unable to because she was gone, forever, despite whatever illusion laid before him. Knowing with every fiber in his being that he would never have her again, not in this lifetime at least. 

He was able to do everything it seemed, except reverse the decision of the Fates. 

“No,” she answered him. “I’m very much real.”

“How?” he rasped, willing his heart to harden, not wanting to feel this wretched hollowness that was spreading throughout his chest. 

She shrugged again. “Magic, I guess. I won’t question it. Not when it’s allowing me to see you again.” 

“I’m sorry.” Guilt colored his tone with his admission. “You weren’t ever supposed to be involved. You were – fuck, Hermione – you were innocent and they killed you because they wanted to get to me.”

His cheeks became wet as his breathing grew ragged, sobbing as he continued. “This was never supposed to happen. I’m sorry.” He choked on a sob as he continued to apologize, the words coming out like a mantra. 

She shushed him patiently, soothing away his guilt and pain while she waited for his tears to abate. 

He finally looked at her closely and she was staring at him with those wild eyes of hers. 

“I hear that you’ve taken over everything and have created an empire for yourself with your Death Eaters, Lord Voldemort.”

She reached out to place her hand on his cheek. They both ignored the fact that they couldn’t feel each other.

“What are you doing, my love?” she sighed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: T

“So where does this leave us, Hermione?” 

She shook her head and closed her eyes, her arms crossed in front of her as if they could protect her from the inevitable heartbreak. 

“We can’t be together,” she responded somberly. 

“Bullshit,” he snapped in anger. 

“I have a strong sense of right and wrong, Draco,” she explained. “And being with you isn’t right.”

“How can this not be right?” He reached out and grabbed her hand, placing her palm over his chest. “My heart beats for you and it hurts when you’re not here like some bloody manticore is sitting on my chest. You make my days brighter and I feel like the world is finally turning on its axis correctly.”

Draco made a sound of disgust as he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Salazar, you have me waxing poetic over you, Granger, so tell me, how can us being together not be right. It’s the only thing that is right in this shit world of ours.”

Hermione smiled sadly as she pulled her hand from his grasp and took a step away. “You forgot something,” she whispered as a tear trailed down her cheek.

His eyes snapped open and they seemed to be made of molten mercury as they gazed at her. 

“It’s Potter now, not Granger.”


	7. Hell Hath No Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger  
> Rating: T

“You failed the first time and the second time because you didn’t have me.” 

“Your side won,” he stated. “What would you gain by helping me?”

At once, it seemed like she would explode, her dark eyes bright like flames, her small body tense, and her wild hair frizzing. “Hell hath no fury like a witch scorned, Riddle.” she answered, her voice low with tension. “I pray that you never forget that.” 

He took a step closer towards her and stared. To his pleasant surprise, she did not cow like most others, but she stared right back at him defiantly.

He gave her a quick nod. “What would you like?” 

Hermione gave him a smile that was all teeth and Tom felt something akin to pleasure and fear as she closed the gap between them. 

“Make me your queen, Tom Riddle, and I’ll ensure your success the first time around.” 

Tiny bumps raised on his skin where her breath touched and he couldn’t stop himself from shivering at the dark promise that she gave him. He nodded, caught in a trance at the witch before him. 

“I’ll make you my queen if you make me a king.”

She pressed a light kiss his shoulder. “As you wish.”


	8. She's Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tomione  
> Rating: T

“Daddy, when will mommy come back?” 

Tom looked to his four-year-old daughter standing in the doorway to his office. Nagini, who hadn’t left the child’s side since she died, stood protectively behind little Diana with her head high and her tongue flickering out ever so often.

Seeing his daughter always wrought a fresh wound to his chest and, despite her desire to constantly see him, he did his best to stay away from her the past two weeks. Everything about her reminded him of Herm – her. From her wild and untamed hair to her curious, brown eyes that would peer at him from under long, dark lashes. Even the way she talked was reminiscent of her mother’s speech. 

He gestured for his Diana to come into his office and allowed her to climb up into his lap before snuggling into his chest, Nagini curling up by his feet. His fingers carded through the child’s hair as he sighed heavily.

Their daughter had lost her mother. He wouldn’t let her lose her father, too.

“Diana, my darling, your mother – she,” he could feel his throat tighten and he swallowed several times before continuing. “She’s passed on, yeah? Your father, me – I made some poor decisions and you know this war we’ve been fighting for a while now?” 

She nodded. 

“There was a fight and the other side hit your mother with a vicious spell.” 

His cheeks felt wet and he could feel himself trembling. He needed to be strong for her. He failed to protect her but he swore to the gods and to the heavens that nothing would ever hurt the only part of his wife that was truly worth protecting. 

“Mommy’s gone forever then, daddy?” Diana asked quietly. 

Tom swallowed again and he imagined the day that Albus Dumbledore’s body would hit the ground. The tears stopped and something else awoke in him. It was rage – and he would let this rage fuel him. 

“Yes, but I’ll be here, little one. And I won’t stop until the person that took your mother away from me – away from us – gets what they deserve.”


	9. Riddle & Co. vs. Granger Inc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom/Hermione  
> Rating: T

Hermione clicked and unclicked her pen rapidly, rolling her eyes at the utter bullshit that was leaving Tom Riddle’s mouth. 

He paused suddenly and his eyes honed in on her. “Is there an issue, Ms. Granger?”

She scoffed. “Yes, actually, there is. The plan that you’re proposing will cause my company to lose a profit of 34%, Mr. Riddle. It’s ridiculous if you think for a second I would sign on it. If I didn’t know better, I would assume that you were trying to run my company to the ground. But, that can’t be right, could it? 

“We signed a contract agreeing to collaborate together to create something more sustainable. I’m not used to failure, but this plan has some faults that suggest I might become acquainted with it…” she trailed off before clearing her throat. “Are you used to failure? Is that why it’s designed this way? 

Her venomous words were covered by the honeyed smile she gave him and she watched in satisfaction as his jaw ticked. 

“No, I am not,” he responded as he flexed his fists. 

Hermione leaned forward and felt the entire room tense in anticipation. “Excellent. If you’d take a seat, Mr. Riddle, I’ll go ahead and present my plan which would be more feasible for the two of us.” 

As she walked past the CFO of Riddle & CO., she heard him whisper, “it took me a week to calculate that profit loss. How the bloody hell did she do it in thirty minutes?” 

She allowed herself a small smirk. 1 for Granger, 0 for Riddle


	10. The Gang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom/Hermione  
> Rating: T

Hermione Jean Granger knew one thing that was definite. 

She was a Marauder, had been so ever since she was 12 and saved Harry from a potential kidnapping by the Order of the Phoenix! But at that moment, with Tom’s grim face in front of her own, claiming to be the leader of the current gang that was encroaching on Marauder territory, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

“I love you, Hermione,” he alleged again, “And I need you.” 

Hermione cocked her head to the side, and despite her normal stance against violence, she pulled out the Glock that Padfoot had gifted her and pressed the cool barrel against Tom’s forehead, turning off the safety.


	11. Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Tom/Hermione  
> Rating: T

You?!” Hermione screeched. 

Tom rolled his eyes. “Yes, princess. Me.”

Hermione had grown up with that title and had been referred to as such her entire life, but there was something about the way that Duke Thomas Riddle of Little Hangelton said it that made her skin prickle. Maybe it was the way it differed so vastly from the reverent and adored tones that she was used to and how he made her title sound like something naughty. 

She turned to her mother. “It’s bloody 2018! Why am I betrothed to someone? Prince William married whoever he wished and so did Prince Harry!” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, princess.” Hermione’s eye twitched. There it was again. “Who else would marry you if you weren’t in an arranged marriage?”

Hermione turned to the man and looked at him for the first time since the announcement. No one ever spoke to her like that, save Harry and Ronald but they were a different matter entirely, and she didn’t care if this man was to be her future husband or not, but like she previously stated, it was 2018 and she refused to take part in such an archaic practice. 

No matter how nice his cheekbones were. Or how perfectly coiffed his hair was. She would make him break this marriage contract even if it killed her.


	12. We're Going to Grandparents?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt submitted by stilleundregen on Tumblr: Tom's cat is having puppies from Crookshanks. someone is angry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Thank you for your prompt!! I’m going to assume you mean kittens because two cats having puppies will be difficult for me to write. Enjoy!

Hermione was making her morning cup of tea when she heard frantic pounding on her door. Setting down her mug, Hermione made her way to the front door and opened it to see her handsome neighbor scowling at her while Crookshanks purred contentedly in his arms.

“Good morning has my cat been –” 

“Why is your cat not neutered?” He interrupted her.

“Sorry?” 

“Your cat.” He shoved the ball of fuzz into her arms. “Why is he not neutered?” 

“I – what?”

Her neighbor breathed out through his nose deeply while he pinched the bridge. Hermione, beginning to become angry with his attitude, gently placed Crookshanks on the floor before placing her hands on her hips. 

“Look, mister.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “I don’t even know what your name is, it’s 6 o’clock in the bloody morning, and I don’t have the patience for this. If you can’t calmly explain to me what the bloody fuck is going on, then kindly go back to wherever you came from. Thank you for returning my cat to me.” 

Hermione moved to close her door when he stepped into her house and gave her a tight smile. 

“My name is Tom and your menace of a cat got mine pregnant.” 

Hermione scrunched her nose in obvious distaste. He was making a huge fuss because their cats were being cats? 

“So, we’re going to be grandparents?”

She grinned widely at his reaction. They were going to get along just fine.


	13. Bail Me Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt submitted by darklordriddle(marauderswagger): Tom and Hermione already in established relationship. Tom ends up in muggle jail for whatever reason you decide. Hermione has to bail him out bc muggle jails have mandatory disapparation wards up, established by the ministry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this and Tom is kind of based off of Lucifer from the show Lucifer in this one. I also really love fluffy Tomione so, here we are. Thank you for the prompt, friend!! <33

“With the new budget for the upcoming year, my department plans on expanding — “ 

Hermione was cut short by her phone ringing. She felt her body flush with heat as her colleagues stared at her and she rushed to decline the call without looking at it. 

“Mrs. Granger, what in Merlin’s name is that awful contraption?”  
Hermione shook her head as she gave a tight smile. “It is nothing worth noting. As I was saying, the new budget has allowed for — “   
She was interrupted once again by her phone and she was certain that she must be red at this point. 

“My apologies, it must be really important. We’ll take a fifteen-minute break now.” 

As everyone got up, Hermione answered the phone, “Granger, speaking.”

“Hey, love, I need a favor.” 

Hermione looked at the screen and cocked her head at the unknown number before putting the device back to her ear. “Tom?” 

“Yes.” 

“Where’s your phone?” 

“Well, you see …” 

Four hours later, Hermione showed up to the police station with the appropriate amount of cash on hand to bail Tom out of jail. 

“Next,” the officer called out. Hermione stepped up to the desk and smiled politely. 

“Hello, I’m here for a Tom Riddle?” 

The policeman’s expression turned dark. “Oh. Him.” 

He lifted his chin to the holding area where Tom seemed to be holding court, all of the other prisoners listening raptly to whatever nonsense her husband must have been spewing. 

“I do apologize for him. £400,000, correct?” 

The officer took her money before another office released Tom. Stepping up to her with a grin on his face, he gave her a kiss on the forehead. 

“Thank you, love.” 

Hermione scowled at him. “We’ll talk about this later.” 

She grabbed at his hand and pulled him along. 

“Remember that your court date is a month from today!” The police officer reminded them as they left. 

When they got to their home, Hermione placed her hands on her hips as Tom poured them both a glass of wine. 

“Now, will you explain to me why you were in jail.” 

“You know how we got into that argument last week? The one where you wished I would, and I quote, ’stop being an elitist prick because Muggles are innovative and just as, if not more so, intelligent than wizards and witches because they’re adaptive’ end quote?” 

Hermione nodded as she took the proffered wine from him. Tom took a long sip out of his own glass before he continued his story. 

“Well, after that argument, I decided to take your advice and experience the lives of Muggles. Since it’s summer and I have nothing else to do with my life besides being Mr. Granger, I enlisted Abraxas to help me blend in and, babe, you cannot believe the utter bullshit that Muggles have to deal with out there. I subscribed to BBC and get notifications each morning and let me tell you.” 

Hermione pursed her lips as she placed her wineglass on the kitchen counter, mentally preparing for whatever bullshit Tom was about to deliver to her. 

“Apparently, there’s this thing called Brexit going on and from what I’ve gathered — I may not be correctly informed, I’ve been told that I’m receiving ‘fake news’ — the UK is leaving this thing called the European Union this year but not everyone is okay with it. Wales, Scotland, Northern Ireland, and England are pretty much divided over the issue.” 

She listened patiently as he droned on and on about his findings, taking large swigs out her wineglass while he refilled it without prompting. 

“…and so, I was at the pub and there was this Scottish person who wanted Brexit to occur arguing with this Londoner who didn’t and I inputted some things and next thing I know, there’s an entire pub brawl occurring.”

Hermione scoffed in disbelief as she drained her wine, stopping Tom from refiling it a fifth time. 

“What, because you’re no longer taking over the world, you decided to incite riots instead at pubs?” 

Tom reached out and pulled Hermione towards him before kissing her squarely on the lips. “You told me that you wouldn’t marry a tyrannical dictator. So now, I am nothing but a humble schoolteacher. It’s my job to educate the masses. I can’t help it if they become angry about it and start rioting because of the information I provide them with.” 

Tom had a silly grin on his face that was so uncharacteristic with his usual stoicism that she couldn’t help but smile as well before she frowned harshly.

“Stop!” She pushed at his chest and bit her lip to prevent the smile that was trying to form again. “Stop it right there! I am upset with you, Riddle!” Her finger swished indignantly in front of his face. “Stop trying to distract me with that.” She gestured toward his face.

Tom grabbed at her one finger before uncurling the rest of them and kissing each tip chastely. “Of course, love. I apologize.” 

Hermione smiled softly as she looked at him with obvious affection. “What am I going to do with you? You’re already in trouble with the Ministry for trying to teach your students ways they could get away with using magic at home. How are we going to get you out of this mess?” 

“Don’t you worry! I already have Abraxas on it. His family has business dealings in the Muggle world and they have a Muggle lawyer already on retainer. He’ll be representing me.” 

“You’re not going into the Muggle world without me in the future and I will talk to the Minister when I get back to work tomorrow.” 

“Your wish is my command.“


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from petralynnluna: Tomione PTA drama?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I grew up in the North Carolina, a southern state on the eastern coast of the US, and I am pulling my knowledge from my formative years in high school for some of this background. All of the characters here are American with slight southern lilts. I am not sorry. I also laughed really hard while writing this and bounced ideas off of @marauderswagger . She is credited with the juice box and bake sale incident.

Hermione had been a single mother for five years now and, despite her lack of “natural mother instincts” — which was bullshit concocted by the patriarchy, thank you very much — she liked to think that she was doing great. 

Her daughter, Diana, was a straight-A student taking only AP classes this semester, captain of the soccer team, and class president. Not only that, but Diana was set to attend Stanford in the fall with a full-ride. 

Hermione was a proud, single mother and she was even prouder with herself for being involved with her child’s life by being the president of Hogwarts High’s Parent-Teacher Association. 

The only downside was that she had to constantly deal with her vice president, Tom Riddle, who was coincidentally, a single father as well. She knew about Tom all too well. His daughter, Anastasia, was Diana’s best friend and academic rival. 

The two’s love-hate relationship had led to countless sleepovers and, while Tom’s relationship with Hermione had always been polite, things turned sour when she was voted as president over him. 

Hermione was certain that he was plotting a coup against her, which sounded crazy because this was just the PTA, but she had a weird feeling ever since she was announced as the president and Tom’s grey eyes zeroed in on her like she made a grave mistake. 

It started normally at first, the two of them meeting at the local diner to brainstorm ideas for the upcoming year, but things started to become weird when other parents would approach her about plans that she knew Tom and she never went over. 

“I am looking forward to the barbecue fundraiser this year, Hermione!” Pansy told her one day after the meeting. 

“Barbecue fundraiser?” Hermione asked in confusion.   
Pansy cocked her head. “Yes, Tom was telling me all about it. We all know North Carolina’s barbecue is the best in the country and —“ 

The blonde trailed off as she stared at Hermione. “Well, bless your heart, you didn’t know.” A sly smile spread across Pansy’s face as she leaned in towards Hermione. “Oh, I’d talk to that Tom if I were you. He’s been telling everyone that he’s planned this fundraiser with you and if people start to ask you questions and you don’t have the answers, you’re going to look stupid. Bye, now, hun.” 

Hermione stared at Pansy’s retreating figure in mild horror. What in the good Lord’s name was going on? Why was Tom planning things and telling things without her input? 

Hermione didn’t confront Tom after that, but she did pay closer attention to his actions. 

During the morning of the junior class’s field trip to the Biltmore Estate, Hermione was delegating out tasks to the parents who volunteered to chaperone. 

Tom was organizing the cooler carrying the juice boxes when Hermione approached him. “Hey Tom, could you be in charge of passing out the snacks to the kids, please?” 

All of sudden, the juice box in his hand exploded and the dark red fruit punch drenched Tom’s white shirt and dripped from his hand like blood. 

Hermione startled and she grabbed some of the napkins nearby, dabbing at the mess that was made. She stopped when he held up one hand and shook his head once. 

“Don’t,” he snapped crisply. “I am fine. Continue on with delegating, Miss Granger. I will be in charge of the snacks as you have commanded.”

She gave him a cautious smile as she mulled over his odd choice of words. Commanded? “Thanks, Tom.” 

Harry came over that evening while Diana was at soccer practice. “Draco told me that you’re abusing your power as president of the PTA?” 

Hermione spluttered on her iced, sweet tea. “What?” 

“Well, his wife, Astoria, heard it from someone who heard it from Tom that you were just giving out commands this morning while not contributing a single thing to help out.” 

Her eyes narrowed as she slammed her cup down. There was that word again. Command? This was the PTA! Not the Lord’s army! She wasn’t commanding anything! 

“I was making sure that all of the kids who were supposed to be there were there and that they all had their permission slips signed and I coordinated with the teachers! I might not have been doing anything that Tom may have observed but I was working just as hard!” 

Harry held his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just telling ya what I heard from Draco.” 

Hermione sucked in her teeth as she nodded. So this was how Tom felt about her leadership. 

The next time she saw him was during the bake sale for the sophomore class’s trip to Pigeon Forge in Tennessee. She wanted to see the brownies he was so famed for.

“These aren’t brownies!” She exclaimed when she spotted the double-fudge cookies at his table. “Tom, the Longbottoms signed up for double-fudge, not you! You can’t sell these.” 

The tall man made a sound of pure frustration as he slammed his hands on the table. “Oh, I’ve had enough of you telling me what I can or cannot do, Granger. If you checked in with the Longbottoms first, you would have noticed that they’re selling brownies instead of double-fudge.” 

Slamming his hands down on the table again, it flipped, all of the double-fudge cookies flying through the air. At the table beside them, the Finnegans screamed. 

“You know what, you can sell the damned cookies yourself!” 

And with that, Tom Riddle stormed away from the bake sale. With an embarrassed smile, Hermione quickly reset Tom’s table and stood there the rest of the night, selling out of the cookies within twenty minutes. 

Delegating both hers and Tom’s responsibilities to the secretary, Susan Bones, Hermione went towards the direction that Tom stormed off to in search of him.  
She found him sitting in his Dodge truck and went into the passenger side, opening the door and hauling herself in. 

“What is wrong with you?” She started without preamble. 

He turned to her and she could tell that he wasn’t going to hold back.   
“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong is that I’m surrounded by imbeciles every day and I can’t do anything about it and my one-shot at having fun and lording over them was taken by you! You don’t even appreciate the power you have and you do inane things like assign people snack duty. I was an Ivy League graduate and worked in the government for years! Snack duty? You give me snack duty? Don’t even get me started on — “ 

“Why are you living here if you were an Ivy League graduate?” Hermione interrupted. 

“My wife was from around here and always wanted to raise Ana here but my job had us living in DC until she died ten years ago. So, I quit my job and moved here out of respect for her. I’m a weapons consultant for the military now but all of that is done electronically so I get to stay home. Why are you here when you have a doctorate’s in physics?” 

“How do you know that?” 

“Know thy enemy.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I got my doctorate’s at Harvard and my husband had an affair while I was away. Blamed me for tearing the family apart by leaving. I’ve felt guilty about it so I’ve dedicated my time to my daughter. I teach an online class for MIT.” 

Tom stared at Hermione for a long time and she began to feel uncomfortable, remembering that she was alone in his car and that everyone else would be too far away to hear her scream should anything happen. 

“Let me teach you how to rule over them.” 

“What?” 

“You have so much potential, Hermione, and I have the experience to show you — “ 

“Tom. This is the PTA, not the government.” 

“Everything is yours for the taking —”

“This is literally the PTA for our children’s high school, dear Lord have mercy —”

“I was trained on how to destabilize regimes —“ 

“You’re not right in the head, are you?” She asked as he continued on his tirade, not realizing how closely she was staring at his lips until he stopped talking and started smirking at her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nauticalparamour asked:
> 
> I’ve got another one for you!! It might be difficult in this format though. University AU. Hermione won’t stop playing the same sad break up song and Tom can hear it through the thin walls. He plays her a song back, but then they end up communicating by playing songs back and forth to one another?? 💕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This was actually easier for me than the photography one. My music taste is very heavily R&B with sprinkles of pop music…so. Hermione listens to R&B and pop music (read: Ariana Grande), too. :D I hope you enjoy!! Thank you for the prompt. DISCLAIMER: THIS IS CHEESY AS HELL.

There it was again. 

It took Tom a while to figure what the song was and who it was by but after hearing it for the 67th time this week, he had everything, from the first chords to the lyrics, memorized. 

It was a sad song, really. But what was even sadder was the sobbing that accompanied it. 

Tom found out after the third time the song played that the sobbing was not a part of it.

_You can taste the dishonesty_ _  
_ _It’s all over your breath as you pass it off so cavalier_ _  
_ _But even that’s a test_ _  
_ _Constantly aware of it all_ _  
_ _My lonely ear pressed against the walls of your world._

_Pray to catch you whispering_ _  
_ _I pray you catch me listening_ _  
_ _I’m prayin’ to catch you whispering_ _  
_ _I pray you catch me._

The saddest of it all were the times that his neighbor, unaware that he could hear all of this, would sob to herself the words: 

“Why didn’t you catch me?” 

He got secondhand embarrassment just hearing her saying that. 

After hearing Beyonce’s for the 69th time, accompanied by those horrendous sobs, Tom grabbed his roommate’s speakers and connected his phone to it. Turning it to its highest level, Tom started to play a song of his own. 

_I once kneeled in shaking thrill_ _  
_ _I chase the memory of it still, of every chill_ _  
_ _Chided by that silence of a hush sublime_ _  
_ _Blind to the purpose of the brute divine_ _  
_ _But you were mine_ _  
_ _Staring in the blackness at some distant star_ _  
_ _The thrill of knowing how alone we are, unknown we are_ _  
_ _To the wild and to the both of us_ _  
_ _I confessed the longing I was dreaming of_

_Some better love, but there’s not better love_ _  
_ _Beckons above me and there’s no better love_ _  
_ _That ever has loved me, there’s no better love_ _  
_ _Darling, feel better love_ _  
_ _Feel better love_

The next day, around the time that Beyonce should have started singing, an upbeat song played instead. 

_Last night, boy I met you_ _  
_ _Yeah, when I was sleeping_ _  
_ _You’re such a dream to me_ _  
_ _And it was on a day like this_ _  
_ _Yeah, if you can believe_ _  
_ _If you can believe_ _  
_ _You’re such a dream to me_

As he listened to the catchy tune, he quickly scrolled through his playlist to find a song to play back and grinned as he played it.

_Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn_ _  
_ _I’m so perplexed_ _  
_ _With just one breath, I’m locked in_ _  
_ _Oh damn, oh damn, oh damn_ _  
_ _I’m so perplexed_ _  
_ _On that, it’s almost shocking_ _  
_ _I know, I know you know you’re scared_ _  
_ _Your heart, your mind, your soul, your body_ _  
_ _They won’t, they won’t, they won’t be careful_ _  
_ _But I guess that you don’t know me_

_‘Cause if I want you, and I want you, babe_ _  
_ _Ain’t going backwards, won’t ask for space_ _  
_ _‘Cause space is just a word made up by someone_ _who’s afraid to get too_

_Close._

It continued like this for a week, the two of them playing songs to one another. It was almost like flirting, really, and Tom was beginning to enjoy this. Her taste in music, though much different than his and was a mixture of pop music and R&B, was endearing and interesting to him. 

One day, she started playing Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande and he decided that after the song played, he would have to meet her. He gathered some things and walked to her apartment, politely knocking at her door. 

He had never met her but when the door swung open, he was taken back by the curly mass of hair tied into a bun on top of her head and her short stature. She had a pleasant smile that showed perfect teeth but something was off. He paid it no mind. There wouldn’t be a smile on her face for long and he was looking forward to it.

He gripped the knife that was clasped tightly in his hand, hidden behind his back as he introduced himself as the neighbor that had been playing music for her. Quickly, she invited him in, that pleasant smile turning into something more joyous, pulling at her cheeks and brightening her eyes. 

In his excitement of securing himself another victim, Tom failed to notice how she herself had secured the front door and moved toward her kitchen, grabbing a knife of her own. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mochacake2016 asked:
> 
> Tomione prompt: tom and hermione fighting over baby names for their unborn child

“Alesandro.” 

“No. Too close to Alexander. I despise all Alexanders.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes as she flipped through the baby book as Tom played another Mozart score. 

“Okay…how about Nico? Nico is a lovely name.” 

“But not good enough for our future child,” Tom said nonchalantly as he crossed the nursery and began to paint swatches on the wall. 

“Which color?” He asked, gesturing to the hunter green, the forest green, and the emerald green. 

“I don’t see a difference.” 

Tom mumbled something under his breath that sounded very similar to “of course you don’t.” 

“What was that, honey?” Hermione called out without looking up from the book. 

“Nothing, nothing at all.” 

She lowered the book and stared at his back before sighing and heaving herself up. She waddled to where he stood. 

“I’ve decided on the name. Xavier.” 

“No.” 

Tom jerked violently. “What the bloody hell? Did you just bite me?” 

Hermione smiled sweetly at her husband before she grabbed his hand and moved it to her lower back. Without further prompting, Tom began to knead the flesh there. 

“You keep shooting down all of my suggestions and I’m over it. You have two options now. Either you agree with me or you can floo over to Malfoy’s for the rest of the week.” 

Tom stilled as he took in her expression. “You’d miss me too much.” 

“Very true, but I also hate you right now so agree with me.” 

“This isn’t over, witch.“


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ibuzoo said Tomione + Week after week she sent him new bouquets of dead flowers.

Tom clenched his jaw as he stared at the bouquet of dead flowers on his desk. This would mark the fifth week in a row that she returned the flowers he had sent her in this state.

He turned his eyes to Lestrange who handed him a simple envelope. Opening it quickly, he read the words written in neat script: 

_"Take a hint, Riddle. It won't be flowers that will be dead next time if you continue this."_

He smiled to himself -- two could play this game. 


	18. Say You Want Me

“Say you want me.”

“I thought you didn’t like it when I lied to you, Tom.”

She watched in satisfaction as he breathed in deeply, his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly as he cooled his flaring temper.

She pissed him off.

Good.

She wanted him angry.

She wanted him fuming, seething.

She wanted him to burn the way he made her burn, an inferno of hate and self-loathing as she bit back the words that he wanted from her.

Because it was all very simple. All of the wants.

Cut them short and it was that she wanted him.

She wanted him desperately and that desire didn’t just burn her; it clawed cruelly at the iron walls she built around them, leaving deep tears where it could.

She was Hermione Granger, dammit, and failure was not her something she was used to. Gods damn her if she allowed Tom Riddle to let her fail.

“Say it, Hermione.”

It was cruel, really, the way he could make her name sound like a prayer and a curse at the same time. Perhaps a talent, depending on who you asked.

“I want you.” He smiled and she wanted to carve it slowly from his face until he could never smile like that again. “I want you to suffer the way you’ve made me. I want you to die at my hands, Riddle.”

The smile was gone and she was glad. She hated how it made her traitorous heart skip a beat.

Hermione stepped up to Tom and enjoyed the height difference she had over his sitting form before pulling at the ropes that secured him to the metal chair.

Her lips brushed against his ear and she felt him shiver. “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll regret everything you’ve ever done to me.”

“Who knew that the Gryffindor princess could be so ruthless?”

“I will do whatever is needed to protect my friends.”

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob before he spoke again. “Even if it means forsaking your heart, my love?”

She didn’t reply.


	19. Liar

“You told me that you’d love me until the day I died.”

“I did.”

“Then what is this, Hermione?” He asked, an infuriating smile stretching his lips as she tightened her grip on the gun pressed to his chest.

“Me loving you, darling.”

“Oh?”

“You’re a different man now, Lord Voldemort, are you not? Did you not kill off Tom Riddle and remake yourself into this persona that you’ve created?”

“We’re one in the same, Tom and I. We’re the same person.”

Hermione clicked the safety off of her gun as pressed it more firmly into his chest.

“Rumor has it that you’ve killed people for even alluding to your former self. What’s changed that you refer to him so freely?”

“You love him,” he said softly and she swallowed nervously.

Because when he spoke like this, he sounded like the young man who sat in the Heads’ Dorm with her and proofread her DADA essays.

And when he was this close, she could smell his woodsy cologne mixed with the ever present scent of old books.

And when she was this close, she couldn’t tell the difference between her lover and this killer.

All she could remember were the heated looks during classes, living in a flat together after graduation, the messy bedsheets on lazy mornings, and the brush of his lips the last morning she ever saw him.

Which made him even more dangerous.

“I loved Tom Riddle, yes, but he’s dead.”

“I’m right here, my love.”

“Are you?”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr under the same penname and find me on FanFiction.net for my current WIPs.


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